


The Fairy's Companion

by LittleUggie



Series: NaNoWriMo Shorts [1]
Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Non-Human Hannibal, Possessive Hannibal, Sleeping Beauty Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 23:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12641268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleUggie/pseuds/LittleUggie
Summary: The dark fairy Hannibal gives the infant Prince William a gift. On his eighteenth birthday, he comes back to claim him.





	The Fairy's Companion

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the short story collection I am doing of NaNoWriMo. For those of you waiting for the second half of Pack of Strays, don't worry, I'm working on it.

The entire kingdom of Wolf Trap rejoices the day Prince William is born. Of course Wolf Trap is a very small kingdom, taken up almost entirely by an enchanted forest filled with all sorts of magical folk and creatures who don’t necessarily bow to the human monarchy, but still, no one was actively upset by the birth of the next king. The king and queen (once she had recovered from the necessary ordeal) announce the baby’s christening celebration. 

They invited the six good fairies of the forest, as is traditional, and each bestowed a gift upon the young prince. Jack, the head fae, gave him the gift of determination. Bella, his wife, gave the gift of health. Down the line they went, Beverly giving wit, Brian: intelligence, and Jimmy: honor. 

Before the fairy Alana could give her gift, however, the doors of the chamber are thrown open in a gust of wind and smoke, and in stepped the dark fae, Hannibal. While most of his visage is that of a striking and handsome man in fine clothes, his true nature is betrayed by the black, pointed antlers that curve from his head.

He walks calmly into the room, unfazed by the terrified and cowering guests. He approaches the throne at a smooth gait, ignoring the other fairies. 

“Your majesties,” his deep voice purred, “I apologize for arriving unannounced. Though that could have been avoided had I been invited.” His lips curl up in a semblance of a smile. “I was quite disappointed, especially when so many of my kindred were asked. I found it...rather rude.” 

The king pales and the queen holds the child close to her chest, protective. They knew it is the height of folly to insult a fairy, especially this one. 

“But, it would be an even more unmannerly for me not to deliver my gift unto the young prince.” The man-shaped creature’s eyes turn black. “To Prince William, I give pure empathy.”  

The silence in the room is ringing, as the court let’s that sink in. Finally, the king stammers, “T-thank you.” 

“You are certainly welcome.” His eyebrow lifts as the black bleeds out. “I will show myself out.” He begins to sweep out, but pauses at the door, looking back, eyes intent on the bundle in the queen’s arms. When he next speaks, it is directly to the infant prince. “I shall see you again, Prince William.” The air throbs with the power of that promise. Then he is gone, the doors closing themselves quietly behind him. 

Everyone stares in bewilderment after him.

“Empathy?” The queen finally says. “That’s...not what I expected.” 

“It must be a trick of some sort,” Jack glowers. “It always is with him.” 

“But, empathy? That’s just compassion isn’t it?” The king says, confused. “Surely that is a good thing?” 

“Not quite.” The fairy Alana, pipes up, looking concerned. “He said pure empathy. The ability to understand anyone. Perception’s a tool that’s pointed on both ends. He will be able to assume your point of view, or mine -- and maybe some other points of view that scare him.” 

The king and queen still don’t look like they quite understand. Alana sighs. “I still have my gift to give. I will do what I can.” She holds her arms out to the queen, and somewhat reluctantly the baby is handed over. 

Alana looks down at the chubby little face, William’s eyes meet hers with surprising focus for an infant. She strokes the soft dark curls gracing his head. “I give you the gift of courage, so that you may face the dark head on.” She seals the blessing with a kiss to the forehead, and hopes that it will be enough. 

*** 

The day of eighteenth birthday, Prince William wanders through the royal woods, dreading having to return to the celebration preparations go on back at the castle. It is not that he is ungrateful that his parents and staff have organized the event. Will just intensely dislikes dancing. And small talk. And large groups of people. Pretty much everything that’s expected at the coming of age party for the heir to the kingdom. 

He had snuck out early this morning to spend some time to himself in the fresh air with only his loyal hound Winston for company. The moment he returns he will be ambushed with last minute fittings and lectures from his etiquette tutor. So he is in no rush as he meanders his way down to the river that marks the border of the royal woods and the beginning of the enchanted forest. 

As a child, he had been warned away from the enchanted forest and the beings that reside there, but he always harbored a deep curiosity about the area. While he was a fairly obedient child and heeded the warnings, that did not stop him from wondering about it, and he had a very active imagination. 

Settling down on the bank, he wishes he had thought to bring his fishing rod. The slow moving water lulls him into the calm he can only find outside the castle, away from the press of other people’s emotions. A smile breaks his face as he watches a couple of turtles drifting by on a log. 

His eyes move back across to the other side of the river and he startles to see something gazing back at him. It is a magnificent stag, proud head tilted as if in curiosity. The look is oddly intelligent, and as Will’s eyes move over the creature, he realizes that it is no ordinary deer.It has ebony feathers interlaced in its thick ruff. 

The prince blinks and the stag is gone as if it had never been there. He scans up and down the river, trying to glimpse some hint of the image. There is just the movement of the trees waving in the breeze. Unsettled, he stands and starts to head back to the castle. He casts one glance back over his shoulder at the other side of the river, but can see no sign of the eyes he can still feel on him. 

Later that evening, after what feels like an eternity of socializing, Will slips out of the crowded ballroom and onto the cobbled path to the garden. A relieved sigh leaves his lungs, as he leaves the stifling heat and deafening noise. His face aches from the forced smile he has been wearing all night. His back and feet hurt from bowing and dancing. 

The moon is just a sliver of white in the sky, periodically hidden by the clouds hanging low over the castle grounds. It is a chilly night, so no one he has ventured outside. The cool air feels good on his sweat dampened brow. His feet find their way to the opening of the maze. The moss on the stones muffle his footsteps a he travels the familiar path to the center. When he steps into the circular clearing of the heart, he discovers that he is not the only one out tonight. 

A sharp featured man dressed in fine robes sits facing him at a small table set with tea for two. Looking for all the world as if he is expecting Will. 

“Prince William,” His voice is deep and oddly accented. While Will doesn’t recall ever seeing him before, he feels a strange pang of familiarity. “Come. Join me.” 

As if pulled by invisible strings, Will draws near and sits in the opposite chair. The man pours the dark, steaming liquid gracefully into the two delicate teacups. 

“Who are you?” 

“My name is Hannibal.”

“Have we met?” 

The man, Hannibal, smiles at him. “Tell me, William,” The prince does not protest the use of his given name without the title. “Have you been enjoying your birthday?” 

“Yes.” It is an automatic response, given many times over the night. 

An eyebrow quirks up over dark eyes. “I sense that you are not being quite truthful.” 

Will looks down at his untouched cup of tea. “I appreciate the time and effort everyone put into the celebration.” 

“Without taking your opinion into account.” 

“It’s expected. Part of being royalty.” 

“How would you wish to spend the day, given your rathers?” 

Will is quiet as he thinks. No one ever asked him what he wants, only what he is supposed to do. “Probably just-fish in the river.” 

“Your prefer solitary pursuits.” 

“I’m not the most sociable person.” 

“I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind.” The man says calmly, taking a sip of his tea. 

Will blinks. How did he know? He picks up his own cup to cover his surprise, but it is hotter than he expects. He drops it and it shatters when it hits the table. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, reaching for the pieces. There is a sharp pinprick of pain. Turning his hand over, he sees a drop of blood well up on his middle finger. 

The world takes on a hazy quality and before it fades completely, he thinks he sees antlers appear on Hannibal’s head. 

***

When he wakes, it is to sunlight streaming in his face. He sits up slowly, head fuzzy. What had happened? How did he get here? Looking around the room, the fixtures are dark and opulent, and very obviously not his. Tossing the covers back, he crawls out of the massive four poster bed. He’s rather alarmed to find he is wearing only a long nightshirt and nothing else. He snatches a dressing robe off of a hook by the adjoined bathing chamber, and leaves the room. 

He appears to be in a castle, though not the one he grew up in. It is ringingly silent, though the decor and hallways are perfectly clean and in pristine condition. He opens doors at random: bedroom, sitting room, music room, broom closet, office.Though they are all furnished, there is no indication of any other living beings in the building. 

At the end of a long hallway, there is a tall arching window. He looks out to see a sprawling and manicured lawn ending at a towering wall overgrown with twisting vines and brambles. What he can see beyond that is nothing but dense, dark trees. Could he be in the Enchanted Forest? The thrill of excitement that leaps in his belly is completely inappropriate for his situation. 

He finds a staircase and passes through a great hall, silent and echoing. The floor is engraved with the image of a human skeleton posed in a beseeching manner. Will skirts around the edge. He finds a door that leads to the kitchens. There he finds what is apparently the only other person in the entire palace. The discovery is not a relief. 

The previous night re-solidifies in his memory.  The strange man, Hannibal, is cutting dark red meat at a tall table. The stove is glowing with heat. The man is dressed in dark breeches and a fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled up. More distractingly, there is a rack of antlers arcing from his head. He looks up when Will enters, the large knife he is wielding glinting in the candlelight. 

“Ah, Will, I thought you would wake soon. I hope you are hungry.” 

The prince stares at him. “What are you?” 

Hannibal clucks his tongue, “Rude, William. But to answer your question, I am of the fae.” 

Will swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. It isn’t much of a deduction to guess he isn’t of the ‘fairy godmother’ persuasion. 

“Wh-where are we? Why did you bring me here?” 

“The first explanation is a bit long, I will tell you while we eat. As for the second, simply put, I brought you here to be my companion.” He drops the meat into a pan on the stove, it sizzles. The smell makes Will’s stomach growl. 

“Your companion? So you kidnapped me?” 

“Would you have come willingly if I had asked?” Hannibal sounds as if he is genuinely curious, but not particularly concerned. 

“I’m the heir to the throne, I can’t just abandon my people!” 

“You do not want to be king.” It’s stated as a fact. Hannibal stirs the meat, and adds some pre chopped vegetables. “The weight of the nation on your shoulders, so many people wanting things from you. It would drain you. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for the things you love. Nothing left of you to be laid in an early grave.” 

The insight leaves Will shaking. The same thoughts had more than once woken him at night, running around his head as he lies in sheets soaked with sweat. 

“It was what I was born for.” He whispers, voice hoarse. 

Hannibal does not answer, instead producing two plates and transferring a portion of the food in the pan to both of them, and adding a slice of crusty bread. Then he looks at Will.

“Shall we?” 

Will furrows his brow, but before he can speak, he suddenly finds himself sitting in a chair in a completely different room. The table before him is just big enough to comfortably seat the two of them. The meal he had just watched Hannibal prepare before them, cutlery already laid out and wine poured. He is also no longer in the nightshirt and dressing gown, but in formal garments as nice as anything he would wear to court back home. The antlered fae is similarly dressed.

“Now, as to where we are.” He says as if he hadn’t casually whisked them through space. “Many years ago this was the seat of the kingdom, long before your ancestors took power. The royal family who lived here turned to magic to help their kingdom prosper, and began to interbreed with the fae who lived in what your people refer to as the Enchanted Forest. But, as fairy magic is tied closely to the land, the forest eventually completely encircled the castle and took over a good portion of the country as well. What was left of the court that had not vanished into the forest abandoned this place and moved beyond the river and built the castle that you were born in.” Hannibal cuts a bite sized piece of meat, and holds it beneath his nose, inhaling the aroma before taking it in his mouth. His eyes close in apparent pleasure. 

“If it was abandoned, why is it so...nice?” Will fiddles with a fork, but does not eat anything. 

Hannibal gives him an odd little smile. “I am the last of the royal line who resided here, so the castle is mine by right. My power extends throughout the estate and helps preserve it. I have also furnished it some with souvenirs of my travels.” His face grows serious, gazing intently at Will. “I am aware you are somewhat distressed right now, but I believe you will soon grow accustomed to your new circumstances. You are free to go anywhere you like in the castle and grounds. There is a rather extensive library that I am sure you will enjoy. However,” he pauses and his voice turns icy. “I warn you to never attempt to cross the wall. It is a fruitless endeavor. I hope to spare you the inevitable pain and disappointment.”

Will feels a shudder go down his spine as the fae’s eyes turn solid black. That deep voice rings with an intonation of power. “I chose you when you were a babe in arms. You will not run from me.” 

Will has nothing to say to that, just stares blankly into those bottomless eyes. Then something shifts, and Hannibal has his pleasant mask back in place. “Please, eat.’ 

So Will does, and it is delicious. Which feels like a personal behaviour on the part of his tastebuds, by all rights it should turn to ash in his mouth. 

***

By all rights, Will’s cage is a large and comfortable one. The grounds are vast, with a sizable lake he can fish in. It is a relief to see that animals are allowed within the bounds of the wall. He wouldn’t put it past Hannibal to bar every other living thing. Birds still fly overhead, squirrels chitter in the trees, and the odd rabbit or fox darts in the bushes. 

The library, as promised, is impressive. At Will’s home castle, the library had been a relatively small room, though one he had spent many content hours. Hannibal’s library must have been built over centuries, and housed in a room that can be accessed from two floors. There is a strict organization system, which Will spitefully attempts to confuse. The books magically found their way back to their correct spots. Then he had to put up with Hannibal’s disapproving stare at dinner. 

The meals are something else. Apparently, Hannibal really enjoys cooking. Every single meal is elaborately concocted. Will originally suspected the use of magic, but other than transport of the plates, he seemed to do most of it the hard way. He spends a lot of time in the kitchens. There is both a conservatory and greenhouse where he grows all the herbs and many of the vegetables he needs. There is an orchard for fruit as well as several beehives. Will supposes he must leave to gain other supplies such as cheese, flour, and eggs. Must be easy when you can simply wish yourself places. Will isn’t sure if he gets the meat from a butcher or hunts himself. And frankly, he would rather not know. The idea of Hannibal on a hunt chills Will to the bone. 

Will tries to ignore Hannibal at first. He shuts himself away in his room, but when he refuses to eat, Hannibal magics him to the table and warns him he will force feed him if necessary. After that, he takes to wandering the house and grounds, avoiding Hannibal except for meal which he consumes in stony silence. Walking the perimeter of the wall, looking for  weak points, takes the better part of a day. He doesn’t even make it all the way back to his starting place before he is whisked back to the house to be admonished by Hannibal for skipping lunch. 

Hannibal isn’t cruel. Other than kidnapping him and holding him against his will, the fae has been nothing but polite and hospitable to Will. He does not force Will to make conversation with him. He makes him come to meals, but does not press his company on him otherwise. That confounds Will some. He stated that he wanted Will as a companion, but doesn’t seem concerned that Will refuses to go near him. Perhaps having his company at meals is enough? Or he expects Will to eventually warm up to him. Which, may not actually be so far fetched. 

The truth is, Will isn’t unhappy. Oh, he is angry about being held captive, but he does not really miss his life as a prince. His parents were distant figures, busy running the country and only offering vague affection when they encountered him. He was raised by nurses and tutors, all of whom only saw him as his title and not as a person. He had no friends among the court, preferring to keep to himself in his limited free time. Honestly, his dogs were the only ones he missed from his previous home. 

Here he can dress as comfortably and simply as he likes. He can spend the day roaming outside or curled up in a comfortable chair reading with no one to tell him otherwise. The castle is fascinating, it seems he finds new oddities in it everyday. He doesn’t have to sit through mind numbing lessons about politics or fake interest in small talk with courtiers. Ironic that he feels more free here than he ever was at home. 

The silent meals do begin to wear on him. He isn’t sure exactly how long he has been there. A month? Two? Does time even work the same way here? Since he has as yet found no way to escape (and does he really even want to?), might as well get to know his captor. Of course the moment he decides to speak, he realizes he has no idea what to talk about. 

Hannibal appears to notice his change in demeanor. “Is the food to your liking, Will?” 

Will clears his throat. The words feel odd forming in his mouth, and he realizes it has been a long time since he last spoke. “Yes. It is always excellent.” 

“I am glad you think so. Do you have any preferences for future meals? I enjoy a challenge.” 

And just like that, Hannibal coaxes him into conversation. From the topic of food they move onto books, music, languages, philosophy, astronomy. Will gets swept away. Hannibal’s wide array of knowledge is astounding. Will is surprised to find he actually is having fun trading repartee with the fae. He begins seeking him out (usually finding him in the kitchen). Hannibal joins him on his walks, speaking about the castle and where he acquired certain things. The fae has travelled all over and speaks of exotic places that Will has only read about. 

He barely notices the changing of the seasons, wrapped up as he is in the strange enchantment Hannibal has encased him in. Who knows how long he has been there, and he has ceased caring. His life becomes inextricably tied to Hannibal’s. He can’t help feeling that perhaps it was inevitable. The fae had said he had chosen him, long before Will had the ability to choose for himself. 

Then the knight shows up.

***

Will is sitting on the stone steps that lead from the outside into the great hall. Hannibal is off somewhere, probably in the kitchen or perhaps the greenhouse The sun is shining, and he is basking in the warmth, the book he had brought with him all but forgotten beside him. His solitude is broken by the sound of footsteps approaching him. It takes a moment for him to realize why the sound is unfamiliar. Hannibal makes no noise when he walks. His own feet are the only ones he has heard since he arrived. He opens his eyes. 

Before him stands a lovely woman in armour, helmet abandoned. She looks scratched and battered, like she had just returned from battle. She stares at him, open mouthed, sword drawn, though held down. 

“Prince William.” She whispers. Then coughs and stands up straighter. “I am Lady Molly of Foster, Knight of the Order of the Sun. It is my quest to rescue you.” 

Will blinks. Well, this is unexpected. “How did you get here?” 

“I was assisted by the fairy Alana. She led me to this place, and I fought my way through the living wall.” 

Living wall? He squints toward the border. So there wasn’t actually stone under all that foliage? Huh. 

“Why?” 

She looks taken aback, this obviously wasn’t going the way she planned. “The kingdom was devastated when you were taken by the dark fairy Hannibal. It has been over a year. Many have attempted to find you and bring you back home, but none have prevailed.” Until me she doesn’t say, but Will can read it in the look of pride she stifles. 

“How did they know Hannibal took me?” He feels like he should be more concerned than he is. He just feels a sort of empty curiosity like this is a particularly odd dream and not really happening. 

“There was a note.” She shifts from foot to foot, obviously tired. “Left with a bundle of sweet williams. Prince William, where is the creature? I will defeat him, and return you home.” 

“I don’t know where he is. Look,” he says kindly. “You seem nice. I’ll walk you back to the wall, and you can go home. I’m fine here. Hannibal isn’t hurting me. But I don’t think he’ll extend the same courtesy to you.” 

“But, you are the prince!” She says, aghast, “I must return you home! I am not afraid of him.” 

He stands, feeling suddenly weary. “Come on.” He begins striding toward the wall, Lady Molly jogging slightly to catch up with him.

“I should slay the beast before we leave,” She says, “otherwise he will try to take you again.” 

Will doesn’t answer, he doubts she would listen if he tried. It is an exasperating reminder of his previous life, where everyone tried to tell him what he should be. They approach the wall. It towers above them, the vines seeming to writhe with a life of their own. Finger long thorns spiking from them. 

“Where did you come in?” 

“The way has closed back up.” She lifts her sword. “I shall make another one. We will have to hurry, my prince.” There is a mighty chop, and a thick section of vines split, green sap spilling from them like blood. 

“I am afraid that is not possible.” Hannibal’s voice curled around them. The two humans turn, and even Will has to repress a gasp. Hannibal looms over them, eyes and skin pitch black, teeth sharpened to fangs and claws gracing his fingertips. His person suit completely stripped away. 

Molly recovers and raises her sword, but it is flicked away like so much dust. Hannibal strikes, his claws ripping her breastplate away. He pulls her close and sinks his hand into her chest. Her eyes stare unseeing toward the sky, and after a few twitches, she goes limp.

“This one got closer than the others.” Hannibal remarks, dropping her. He turns those black eyes toward Will. “You were going to leave with her.” 

“No.” He says, and it’s true. “I just wanted to avoid, this.” He can’t look at the ground. 

“Ah, you knew I would punish her for trying to take you from me.” The fairy reaches out and cups his chin. Will swallows, he can feel the sticky blood coating the appendage. 

“Yes. I know you. I understand.” 

“I ensured you would.” Hannibal’s voice is gentle. “But you still tried to spare her.” 

“She didn’t deserve to die.” 

“I disagree.” He hums, tilting his head and studying Will curiously. 

“There were others?” 

“Yes.”

“And you killed them.” 

“Yes.” 

Will nods, tears spilling from his eyes. Hannibal wipes them away. 

“My dear boy.” He says gently. Both of his hands cup Will’s face. Ever so softly, he presses a kiss to the prince’s lips. Will sighs and goes lax in his arms. Everything fades, but Hannibal’s tender expression, and then that is gone, too.

***

Will experiences the sensation of deja vu upon waking. But this time when he sits up in bed, Hannibal is sitting on the mattress beside him. 

“Did I faint?” 

“No. I put you to sleep.” 

‘Why?” 

“You were upset to find I was killing the so-called heros who were searching for you. I put you to sleep until there was no one left to search.” 

Will’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?” 

“You have been asleep for a hundred years, Will. Every human who knew you is long dead.” 

Will can’t wrap his mind around that. “A hundred years?” 

“Yes.” 

“But-how?” 

Hannibal is amused at that. “Magic, Will. As long as you are with me, you will never age.” 

“What did you do during that time?” 

“The same thing I did for the centuries before I chose you. Though it was far more pleasant to know you were here, waiting to be woken.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Will’s forehead. He pulls back and his black eyes gleam with possession. 

“And now you can never be taken from me. You are mine.” 


End file.
